The Free Hex

Gerry used to spit whenever he spoke. S-words and P’s were the worst. T-words dribbled down his chin. I’d known him since high-school and had not seen him in ten years until a year ago. He was sitting at the bar at Freddy's . Next to him, kissing his neck, was a thin, young blond, the likes of which you don’t often see outside glossy magazines covers.

Gerry said, “Sammy! Sit, sit, sit!"

I said, “Jesus!” which I hope sounded like, “Oh boy, it’s you, Gerry! But really I meant, “Oh, good god, it's you…”

Gerry said, “Barb, this is Sammy!”

Barb looked at me long enough to stop my breath and went back to Gerry’s neck.

This was hard to believe. I'd seen Yellow Labs snarl at this guy!

“Hey!” Gerry told her, “Go powder your nose!” He forcibly unhinged her arms.

She left in a high-heeled sulk.

Gerry gave me a wink and handed me a black card: Madam Zingala Free Love Hexes, it said.

I looked from the card to Gerry, unable to speak.

“It works!” he said and raised his arms. It’s free!”

“I gotta go,” I said, and quickly did so.

I avoided Freddy’s Bar for a full year, but for some reason I walked in yesterday. There was Gerry again sitting with Barb, her thin arms still wrapped around his neck. I sat at a distant table, but he somehow found me.

He sat down. He looked exhausted.

“I need to remove the hex!” he stammered. I need money. You gotta help me, man, we go back, Sammy! You gotta help me!”

It seems in order to undo Madam Zingala’s Free Hex costs money.

"Is she coming, Sammy?" He seemed afraid to turn around. "She is, isn't she?"

How much is it worth? I wondered.

-299 Words-